Effortless Crystals
By Cara Chang Mutert
Sitting in the quiet stillness of a thick blanket of snow, watching the sun rise above the treetops, and the purple and pink sky reflecting on the horizon from the warmth of my home, I find myself in awe this morning. Witnessing the beauty of the frozen tundra, blanketed with a thick layer of white crystalline flakes that have magically adhered themselves to the earth and its limbs creates a sense of deepness, almost a sense of inner knowing.
We have reached the deep slumber of winter. Along with gentle beckoning of rest that winter brings, the dense freshness of the snow also creates a sense of purity, a feeling of a clean slate. As a homebody, these cold winter days always fill me with gratitude for the warmth and safety of my home, the beauty of the gift of this earth, and the stillness in the quiet aftermath of a snowstorm.
Settling into this past weekend rekindled childhood memories of winters’ past when big snow seemed like a part of everyday life for months on end. Life felt simple then. Winter storms meant snow days, bundled up and padded from head to toe, rosy, wind-burned cheeks, and chunks of frozen snow stuck to the scarf around my neck and chin. Hot chocolate and a warm, home-cooked meal usually followed, which to me felt synonymous with love.
I think what makes snow days so special is that you’re a bit stuck. Stuck in life as it is in this moment, and just making the most of it because we only have a day. Nowadays, snow days often become days to get caught up, like cleaning the closet or organizing the basement (which I did, btw). But while cleanliness and organization do play a role in yoga, just as importantly, so do taking time self-care and self-reflection. (which I also did 😊)
Snow’s heavy, downward energy can nudge us to slow down, and to lavish and savor in the serenity of the insulated earth. What I love most about the dense, yet fragile nature of snow is that it reminds me that like the frozen trees and brittle branches, we are more resilient than we may appear. That even after the coldest, darkest of moments, hope still exists in the slumber beneath the blanket of snow.
With so much human struggle facing our world at the moment, including wars, the migrant crisis, homelessness, poverty, and ultimately the issue of the imbalance of power and corruption that make all of these atrocities possible, it’s easy to feel powerless to effect change in the world. The sadness, anxiety, and despair of it all could easily overcome me and either morph into an obsession, or at the very least, give me a seriously good reason to sink into depression.
But I find the ongoing practice of trying to remain content and unwavered by it all more interesting. Staying grounded and working to stay balanced physically, psychologically, and emotionally can provide us with a healthier preoccupation. One that’s actually worth focusing our energy and attention. Since we often do feel powerless, as individuals, we can each work to bring more balance into this world by first working on being more balanced ourselves. That may be in fact all we can do, but nevertheless, a really great place to start.
Now, as the sun lowers and the temps begin to drop, the air is growing more frigid, and the sugary crystals topping the rolling mounds of snow seem to grow more reflective. The delicate, icicle-sleeved branches glisten as they elegantly drape, yet bristle against the cold wind and the bright blue sky. The fresh new layer of bright white snow shows off its sharp contrast against the black bark and weathered wisdom of the old oak tree.
Each frozen crystalized droplet of water reflects a prism of light. Each effortless sparkle a reminder that both strength and resilience, as well as stillness and wonder, are all parts of our natural state of being.
May the teachings of nature never cease to inspire …